On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

Vars pointed at the two. “Does Jake hate all the guys who aren’t patches?”

“No,” Knight said, using a wet wipe to clean himself before tucking his dick back into his pants. He grinned at Vars from across the other sofa and leaned forward so they could hear each other more clearly. His handsome face still had that healthy flush, but he seemed otherwise unbothered. “Long story short, Jake’s jealous of him. I guess he’s a bit lonely these days, that’s all.”

“He’ll come around,” Beast said quickly.

“Who does he do then if the two gay members are off the table, and the former prez is dead? Joker?” Vars asked. He tried sounding as if he didn’t care, but in reality, he needed to know who his competition was.

Knight licked his lips. “I guess. Fox is off the table. He’s not in the market for boys, and his old lady is keeping an eye on him. Rev only wants a BJ from time to time, so I guess Joker gives it to him most often, although he also prefers the girls. Tough luck. Jake needs to broaden his horizons,” he said with a smile.

Beast leaned forward, his scarred face twisting. “Doesn’t he sleep with hangarounds?”

“Not that I know.”

Vars chewed on his lip. “He likes a man in charge. That’s why he only wants patches.”

“Is that so?” Beast also looked at Jake across the room.

Elliot appeared from the crowd of musk-scented bodies so fast Vars would have thought he’d been hiding on purpose if he hadn’t known better. The boy parked his naked butt in Knight’s lap and handed him a beer, curling up around his man as if he wanted to melt into him. “Look at him working on that chair. Maybe Joker will be kind enough to give him some dick after.” He laughed so hard he snorted some beer out of his nose. “Charity dick.”

Vars now knew of one more boy in need of discipline. Knight clearly wasn’t up for the task, since he didn’t react to the cruel comment. “That’s very uncalled for,” Vars said coolly.

Elliot’s single eye darted toward him, but he shut his mouth.

Knight pointed his finger at Vars. “You know what? You might be right. Jake did say something about liking a man with authority, or something like that. Maybe he crushes on Beast then? Too bad our prez will soon be Mr. Mercier.”

Elliot sniggered against Knight’s hair, but Vars’s attention peaked at the news of Jake. So he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Jake’s preference, even if others wouldn’t put a name on it. Vars sure as hell could give Jake all the authority the boy needed.

Vars glanced at Beast, who took the mockery relatively well, rolling his eyes with a half-smirk.

“Very funny, guys. Especially you, Elliot. Haven’t you just changed your surname too?”

Vars frowned. “Wait, are you two married as well? What’s this wedding season?” he said lightly, even though the odd situation was freaking him out.

Knight snorted. “What? Nah, I’m never getting married. Who needs a piece of paper to—” He stopped talking when his gaze met Beast’s. “I mean... unless someone’s really desperate to put a ring on it,” he said, patting Beast’s loaf-sized hand.

Beast shook his head. “Go on, Knight. Keep digging yourself that hole.”

The conversation was interrupted by Magpie’s PA, who told Vars Magpie wished to discuss a few more things in private before he left. Beast and Knight waved him off and assured him that the party would continue so Vars needn’t worry about missing out.

He left with a pat on the shoulder. He’d enjoyed how open and welcoming the members of the Kings of Hell were toward him. As if they already considered Vars a part of it all. It was refreshing not to have his guard up all the time and speak his thoughts freely. It probably had something to do with them being in dire need of a real accountant, but they didn’t seem to pander to him for the sake of that. And even though some of them were too open, Vars could get used to it with time.

He made his way to the large apartment where Magpie had stayed during his time at the clubhouse. Vars was invited inside after a single knock on the door and entered the large bedroom with a smile.

Magpie sat in an antique chair by the window, a pile of bags and suitcases gathered at his feet like a crowd of lapdogs. His black hair was arranged into perfect waves, and the golden buttons of his jacket shone as if Jake had cleaned them with his own tongue.

“It’s a shame you have to leave already, boss.”

“Yes, it’s been an… interesting few days,” Magpie said, gesturing for Vars to come closer. “I need to talk to you about some final issues before I leave you to your task.”